"Do you think for an instant I'd let you ?" Her voice was gay, but when he had broken away from her clasp, and was racing along the hail for his school books, she turned aside to wipe the tears from her eyes.
"It's wrong, but I love, him more than I love Fanny," she said.

"I love him more than all the rest of the world.".
An hour later, sitting beside an Italian labourer in an elevated train, she tried hard to keep her mind on the day's work and on the morning paper, which she held open before her--for in adopting a business life she had adopted instinctively a man's businesslike habits.

A subtle distinction divided her from the over-dressed shopgirls around her as completely as her sex separated her from the portly masculine breadwinner in the opposite seat.

Her tailored suit of black serge, with its immaculate white collar and cuffs, had an air of charming simplicity, and the cameolike outline of her features against the luminous background of the window-pane was the aristocratic racial outline of the Carrs.

In the whirlpool of modern business she still preserved the finer attributes which Nature had bred in her race.